


Building a Home

by Otempura



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: BAMF, Bloodborne - Freeform, Fix-It, Friendship, Slow Burn, The hunter is so done with this, potty mouth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-20 11:52:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11920335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otempura/pseuds/Otempura
Summary: In which the Hunter decides to utilize the Hunters dream in a different way, makes friends and builds a family all in one. Yharnam is going to be fixed and the Healing church is going down, and the Yharnamites are damn well going to deal with it.





	1. Chapter 1

His leg throbbed from the nearly fresh wound still oozing his essence through his clothing and his heart pumped with the adrenaline flush through his veins. He gritted his teeth and repeated his mantra under his breath, "I'm almost there, just a bit more..." 

He had run afoul of another monster, trying to navigate his way to the Cathedral. He cursed whatever higher power had brought him to this befouled place and gritted his teeth against the pain. He drew a deep breath and tried to remain calm as he heard another crazed cackling from a nearby window, "These thrice bedamned sycophants. Find an paleblood indeed, t'fuck is this shit," he scowled at the nearest window, "Hey! Fuck you; yeah I know you can hear me, crazy old bat!" 

"Blighted outsider, bringing ruin to Yharnam! Away with you!" 

"I'd leave if I could, you rotten old skank" he shouted, ignoring her outraged cries. He clenched his fists against his saw like scythe; a saw cleaver, the little skeleton had told him. A worn, blood rusted evil looking piece of metal it was, too. Of course it's blood rusted, this whole backwards city idolized the stuff; he'd be glad if he never saw another drop. 

Sighing, he trudged up the final staircase and passed the bloated corpse of the wolf man he had killed earlier. He spied his little lamp, glowing merrily in the middle of the darkened square and he sighed in relief; by some miracle, he was able to heal when he touched the light. It warped him to a safe place with a garden and a nice little hut and it provided him with supplies. 

He could do without the barmy old codger in the hut though, as he looked eerily similar to the crazy old man who he suspected had brought him all of this misfortune. He longed for whatever simple life he was snatched away from and his heart ached at the bleeding hole that was his memory. 

He drew even with his lamp and almost touched it, anticipating the relief he would feel free from the wound in his upper thigh when he heard possibly the most pathetic hacking imaginable. He paused, wondering if asking would be worth the vitriol he might receive if this person wasn't of the amiable sort. He worried his lip in the silence and lowered his cleaver, trying to determine where the pitying sound came from. 

Again and louder this time, he heard the wet and hacking cough, this time followed by what sounded like a collapse. He judged the sound to come from the corner home and he approached the window with the incense burning on the ledge, "Everything alright in there?" 

Silence, and then hesitatingly, "A hunter, is it? I apologize I fear I may not be able to raise to greet you. I seem to have fallen. My name is Gilbert..." 

Alarmed, he leaned against the window and tried to peer in. He could just barely make out the shadow of a man crumpled on the ground, "aye mate, you need help?" 

"NO!" The other man, Gilbert shouted alarmed, "No, do not open that door, it is dangerous!" 

"Blast the people in this town," you whisper to yourself, taking in a deep breath, "you think I'm going to let some sickly person lay on the ground until he dies? You'd have to be just as crazy as the rest of these people." 

He calmly staggers to the door, wincing as the pain in his leg intensifies and finds the door locked tight. He ignores the pathetic pleading from the man inside, begging him to leave him be, and ignores the claims that the other is incurable and contagious; if his magic blinking lamp can cure a half severed leg, then it'll cure whatever ailment this pathetic sod has. He shouts as much to the other as he contemplates the lock on the door, "You just sit right there, you hear? Honestly, who is taking care of you in there, what kind of person leaves someone like you alone to die like you are." 

Gilbert moans in pain and begs the question of why he deserves whatever it is that is happening to him. The hunter ignores him as he finally decides to hack away at the door until it breaks. Once the hunter is able to enter he quickly spies the fallen man and sighs. He does look like a poor sight, laying shaken and defeated on the cold stone floor, not even a rug to cushion the fall. 

There is blood all over the ground and on the man's face, which was sunken and sickly. His eyes were watered and fever crazed and his body shook as he tried to get away from the hunter who was having none of the codswallop. The Hunter limped over to the other man, grabbed him by his loose and rotting robed back and heaved him over his shoulder. 

"This is the end! By the blood why is it coming to this, I'll die; we will both die! Yharnam is cursed!" 

The hunter ignored the others moans and exclamations as he limped his way over the wreckage of the ill kept home and back through the now broken door. He was sweating and feeling weak by the time he threw the sickly Gilbert next to the lamp and kicked the other to shut him up. 

He scowled down at Gilbert who was shocked into silence and then threw himself to the ground next to the other. He grasped Gilbert by his neckline and drew his face near, "Shut. Up! You and every other crazed loonie in this town can all shut up as I seem to be the only one actually trying to help instead of making things more insane around here." 

Gilbert's eyes widened in fear and watered; the man opened his mouth as if to wail but the hunter smacked him about the head, "No! I said shut up and listen," the hunter covered Gilbert's mouth with his gloved hand and narrowed his eyes at the sickly skeletal figure, "Are you listening?" 

Gilbert nodded and the Hunter felt the other man's lips close so he continued on, "Okay, see this lamp here? I know you couldn't see it from inside, but it's where I've been disappearing to every so often. I know you could hear me out here and I know that you know I've killed all the monsters around it. That is why your home was so quiet and safe recently; you're welcome for that." 

The other got a feared look in his eyes, as if he thought the hunter was crazy. The hunter sighed, because if their positions were switched he would think the same thing. Who would believe in a magic lamp that whisked someone off into safety? The hunter removed his hand from Gilbert's mouth, "Look, if you're actually dying then what is the harm in humoring me in this? I can always fix your door for you if what I'm saying isn't true and then you'll be free to die cold and alone on that floor again. I'll even steal you more incense to keep the monsters away!" 

Ah, finally a reaction that wasn't fear, dear Gilbert looked angry. 

The hunter smiled at the other man, "I just want you to believe me for a second. I am going to drape you over my back, and I want you to grasp the back of my hand like a lover might," Gilbert opened his mouth in outrage, but the hunter cut him off, "No I am not a pervert, I know what you're thinking! Just trust me, remember? This lamp will take us to safety and if I'm right it will cure every ailment you have right along with mine! See this festering wound? It looks like it might need to be cut off, see? It's got dirt and blood and guts and all kinds of nasty things in it but this lamp can get rid of all of that! It'll even get you away from the monsters for good! You can get all your strength back and there will even be a nice old man to keep you company! There's lots of books and good food too, and it's warm and always twilight! Doesn't that sound nice?" 

Gilbert looked angry, "It isn't nice to fool the sickly, you're a sinful and mean man." 

The hunter could feel his eye twitching in irritation. Just because he could understand the suspicion against him doesn't mean he wanted it, "Listen... It isn't going to do you any harm in trusting me just for this one second. Do what I say and if it doesn't help you then I'll slave away to your convenience, okay?"  
Gilbert pursed his lips, clearly unhappy and nodded. He certainly did look like a sad sight and the Hunter supposed he would cut him some slack. The hunter did drape the other across his back after some struggling and cursing from the other, and Gilbert managed to grasp his hand as instructed. The hunter drew a labored breath in at the extra weight and asked Gilbert hold onto his saw cleaver for him. 

The hunter heaved himself up, holding tight to Gilbert as his vision almost blacked out from the pain in his leg. He almost impaled himself on the lamp in his rush to grab the flame with their joined hands, and he ignored Gilbert's alarmed screech and shouted questioning of the hunter's sanity.  
As his vision faded into a familiar white that was part of his transference to the dream like escape from Yharnam, he hoped that Gilbert would be a better conversationalist when he was healthy... 

He hoped last minute that Gilbert would actually be brought with him; the thought that he wouldn't didn't actually occur to him. He felt Gilbert hold tight to him and then the pain was gone and everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is again un-edited and I haven't actually read through it yet after writing it. I had to write it in websites little box too... I can't access my Microsoft Word app right now. I hope it isn't too terrible, although I will read through it at some point when it isn't 2am on a monday.   
> For those of you who read the first chapter and liked it: Thank you so much!  
> for the four of you who went out of your way and told me so in comments: awe, you're quite nice! I like you guys! I'm glad you like and it and I hope this chapter doesn't disapoint you overly much. 
> 
> This chapter IS a transition chapter, as I need to get him out of the hunters dream and suggest a few ideas before sending him off to meet the next NPC: Father Gascoigne... who I affectionately have called "Father Fuckface" since I can't pronounce his real name and he killed me so badly, so many times my first play through. 
> 
> Thanks guys!

Chapter Two

 

The hunter awoke groaning but thankfully pain free and he thanked whatever higher power that kept his body blessfully animated for that. He felt the cool touch of a distinctly feminine hand across his forehead and sighed, opening his eyes. The sun was as always gone, and the moon hung pale and oddly low in the sky above him; he closed his eyes once more before stretching his limbs and attempting to stand. 

As his bones creaked and groaned from their disuse in his rest, looked wearily looked around for the hand that had so lovingly caressed him and spied only the doll staring at him, in a most unusual place. His brow creased in confusion and he reached out to touch the doll but was shocked to see it raise and tilt it's head. His hand quickly went to his ever present saw cleaver in shock but he collected himself quickly enough to question it, "What is this new trickery?" 

The doll smiled and dreamily replied, "Hello good hunter, I am a Doll. I am here to look after you." 

The hunter's skin crawled at the inhuman tone the thing took and despite it's beauty and evident life in it's form he felt repulsion for it. He studied the creature warily; her skin was inhumanly pale and her hair a blond so flaxen he would almost dare to call it white. Her expression was serene, yet her eyes bespoke horrors; the hunter did not yet know if those horrors were seen or committed. He would hope this creature would not cause harm in this sanctuary he had found, as he did not know if he could stand the blow it's loss would cause him. 

He hazarded a tentative greeting, "I've seen you Doll and yet you've not spoken to me before. I had not known your form was animated, albeit this could be a welcome development." 

The doll smiled; a small fickle thing it was too. She seemed to know so much more and the Hunter felt bitter about that and felt his heart ache at the loss of knowledge he himself must be missing. He bitterly did not return the smile and regarded the doll reproachfully until she responded, "Dear hunter, the rules which guide this plane are not of my making. I awaken when I am thus needed and remain so until I no longer am. I will care for you while you dream." 

This place, Yharnam... Everything just continued to get stranger and more disturbing by the hour. He pursed his lips and held his bowed head in aggrievance for a moment before it occurred to him that there was one pressing matter that he should be checking on. The hunter jerked his head up and scoped the dream like garden for his ill fated companion, growing more panicked by the moment, "...Gilbert?" 

"Dear Gilbert is resting with Master Gehrman in his hut. I have cared for his body, though the transition had healed him; he is quite weak..." The Doll spoke, and The hunter took a moment to observe her once more. She had moved to stand a few feet back from him, her hands held politely in front of her funeral attire. The hunter regarded her for a moment more, still wary. 

Eventually he worked up the nerve to ask, "Weak, and yet will he live?" 

The doll smiled serenely, "Our God does not allow death in this dream. He heals all wounds and woes as it befits him." 

That didn't sound cryptic as fuck.

The hunter fought down the foreboding feeling as he was wont to do these days and nodded at the Doll. He turned to the hut, sitting merrily on it's hill with it's tiny gift bearing skeletons lining the path. With one last parting look at the doll, and a nod of thanks he turned towards the hut and approached anxious to see for himself that Gilbert was alright and that he wouldn't be quite so alone. Time would tell if he grew to regret his company, however at this moment all he wanted to do was see another human face. 

He opened the door to the hut to the sight of Gehrman, the suspected body thieving and memory stealing old codger, leaning over Gilbert's torso with what looked like a children's storybook. The old man was squinting at the book and his worn voice merrily acting out the parts of a child who had drank too much healing blood and had thus gorged themself into a right round shape. Gilbert appeared to be laughing as Gehrman iterated the inconvenience of having to roll oneself from home to home looking for a sewing needle to pop their body and reveal the, albeit shamed, young child inside the gorged monster. 

The hunter coughed loudly for attention and moodily leaned against the wooden door frame. Both Gehrman and Gilbert turned to peer at him, mirth on both of their faces. Gilbert smiled, almost manically, "Hunter! I have not felt quite so well since I was a boy! A thousand thanks for your help and rescue!" 

Gilbert had been cleaned and given new clothing it seemed, although they hung on his still skeletal frame. His collarbone jutted out from the V-Line in his crisp white shirt that hung untied around his neck and his cheeks protruded from what once might have been an handsome face. The hunter scowled at how small the man had been allowed to get but was relieved that he yet lived and had been transferred to the dream world with him. 

"It is fortunate that our God has allowed his acceptance to the Hunters Dream and not at all unwelcome." 

The hunter jumped at the voice of the doll who had crept silently upon him. She swept past him carrying a basket of flowers that she handed to Gilbert who took them with such joy and awe that the Hunter could not bring himself to speak ill upon her. They looked happy, these three and the hunter felt a pang in his heart at being what he could only assume as an outsider. He buried it down deep and spoke to the old man, "Is this not something that those before me thought to do?" 

Gehrman glanced at the Hunter considering, "Helping others in Yharnam... revealing such a place that heals all and hosts no ill... would be unheard of by any." 

Ah. That makes sense. 

"You are a greedy, miserable people," The hunter responded hatefully. Gehrnam and Gilbert had the grace to look ashamed at their countrymen and did not dispute the hunter, "Seriously; this place is miraculous and with everyone out there dying of something or another at best and being turned into bloodthirsty monsters at worst the fact that this place is so quiet that not even loved ones have been brought here by previous hunters is absolutely maddening. What is actually wrong with you rotten, sideways, atrocious people!" 

Gilbert attempted to speak up, "Yharnam is the home of blood healing, the healing church provides cure-!"

"The healing church is cursed, that blood is cursed and you are all sick and addled with it. You've been tricked by some monster and are now living in outright anarchy and for some reason you're depending on people like me that you've spirited away from their homes to deal with it! I suppose that's likely because I had the right good sense to not pick up a vile of blood and ask myself, 'Hey, what would this oozy shit taste like, T-hee!'" The hunter held his hands up in parody of a young school child for good measure. 

Gilbert bit his lip and Gehrman looked on, studiously. Neither one said anything until the Doll chimed in with bell like laughter, joy evident on her face, "Dear hunter, you will be much help I am sure." 

The hunter felt his lip start to curl in horror at the implications of that, "Help with what?" 

The doll just smiled, "Yharnam is full of monsters, the dream is a respite for those who hunt."

Right. Kill monsters, find answers. The hunter sighed, "I've got to leave soon, I've rested enough," The hunter sighed and addressed Gilbert, "Please rest some more, eat some food and get healthy. If you got here then I'm sure I can bring more people through... if there are any people sane enough to trust in this place. I'll try to find you more company, although this place is small..." 

Gehrman spoke up for the first time, "The dream shifts as needed, this place is governed by the Moon Presence and will alter accordingly..." 

The hunter thought about questioning that statement but thought better of it; questions to this man had never been answered prior, only more questions developed. The Hunter nodded, then turned to the cabinet that held his blood vials and took as many as he could carry. He turned back to the three sitting in the hut and replied finally, "...That was decidedly  _not_ understood and I will question it later... However I do need to try to get to the healing church and see if people yet remain soon. I will be back, perhaps with company. Gilbert..." 

The hunter trailed off and Gilbert tilted his head, eyes lidded in what appeared to be the beginnings of exhaustion, "Gilbert, I'll be back soon. Don't die after I went through the trouble of saving you. " 

The hunter turned, ignoring the other's snort of indignation and headed for the tombstone that would transfer him back to one of his lamps. 

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't edited this, and I hope it doesn't suck. If I've got the lore wrong then meh, that's what fanfiction is for! I hope you like it and follow it. 
> 
> Also, I like Gilbert. Killing him was sad, so let's save him in the fanfic, yeah?


End file.
